Reconstructing Meredith (Light Switch Book 2)

by Lauren Gallagher

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “No, go ahead, I’m sorry, I…”

  “Don’t apologize, Meredith.” I moved my hand from her blouse to her face, hoping she didn’t notice my unsteadiness. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “I want…” She hesitated, eyes meeting mine, then darting away, then meeting them again. Finally, she closed her fingers around my wrist and guided my hand back down to the top button. “Please.”

  I watched her eyes as I opened that first button. Then the second. Then the third. No uncertainty, no hesitation. Nerves, yes, but I had those too, and she gave me nothing to tell me to stop or slow down.

  Another button.

  Still another.

  She helped me untuck her blouse from her jeans, then watched my fingers undo the last button. With her shirt completely open, I ran my fingertip along her collarbone, then down the ribbon of exposed skin between her lapels. She sucked in a breath and shivered, closing her eyes as her spine straightened. My finger grazed her breast before snagging momentarily on her bra, and she whimpered softly.

  I reached up to push her blouse over her shoulders, but when her breath caught this time, I froze.

  “Wait.” She stepped back and shrugged her blouse off. When it was gone, though, she didn’t reach for me. She unclasped her bra, letting it fall away as well. Then she hugged herself, her shoulders bunching as they had when I first came through the door. It wasn’t modesty as far as I could tell, especially since she didn’t try to cover her breasts. If anything, she tried to hide from a phantom chill, one that seeped slowly into my veins as I watched her past try to drag her away from me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Meredith swallowed hard. “The scars I mentioned, they’re—” Her cheeks colored.

  “What about them?”

  “They’re…” With a sigh of resignation, she closed her eyes and gathered her hair, pulling it over one slumped shoulder.

  “They’re on your back?”

  Eyes still closed, she nodded.

  A sick feeling rose in the back of my throat. “May I look?”

  She hesitated, drawing a long, deep breath through her nose before she nodded again.

  My heart jumped into my throat and my stomach coiled into knots. She turned around slowly, and I held my breath, bracing myself for whatever that son of a bitch had done to her.

  As she turned, heavy shadows slipped off her body until her skin was finally visible in the low, warm light. I pulled in a sharp breath.

  God damn you, Rich. Damn you straight to fucking hell with that shriveled piece of shit that passes for your heart.

  I knew the pattern the moment I saw it. The parallel lines of different lengths and varying distances apart, but roughly the same thickness, were unmistakable. To the unknowing eye, it looked like an animal had clawed the hell out of her.

  To someone more familiar, they were the marks of a cat o’ nine tails, just like the one that had marked my own shoulder one distant, dark day in my past. I cringed. A cat o’ nine was for flogging, for raising a few welts and putting a sub into subspace. Not… not this. Not fucking scourging someone.

  The scars went right across her spine, as if he’d hit her with no regard whatsoever for damaging skin or nerves by striking so close to bone. He probably hadn’t concerned himself with protecting her kidneys, either.

  In spite of the urge to turn away from how badly he’d mutilated her, I looked closer. Some of the lines were scalloped along the edges.

  “Meredith,” I breathed. “Were these sutured?”

  “A few of them, yes.”

  “How did,” I shook my head, blinking in disbelief before looking again and seeing that, yes, the scars were still there. “The emergency room didn’t report it?”

  “Emergency room?” She laughed bitterly. “He was a surgeon. He stitched them himself.”

  My stomach lurched. “What ever happened to ‘first do no harm’?”

  Another humorless laugh. “Apparently he missed that lesson in medical school.”

  I couldn’t look at the scars anymore. I put my arms around her waist and held her to me. “I am so, so sorry he did this to you.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know, but I can’t believe someone would do this.”

  “Believe it,” she whispered. “Someone did.”

  “So he did.” I kissed the side of her neck. “I promise you, I won’t.”

  “I know you won’t. I was just afraid of…” She swallowed. “Once you saw them… if you…”

  “Meredith.” I nuzzled her neck and held her closer to me. “You know me better than that. Did you really think I’d push you away because of some scars?”

  She didn’t speak.

  “Baby, look at me.” I released her so she could turn around. Once she faced me, I wrapped my arms around her again. “Honestly. You know me better than that, don’t you?”

  Her cheeks darkened and she dropped her gaze. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “It’s okay.” I kissed her. “You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to repulse me. Like, getting a tattoo on your forehead that says ‘Scott Moore is a dick’.”

  Meredith laughed, and that sound sent a rush of relief through me. She met my eyes. “Maybe I should cancel my tattoo appointment then.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should. Now, come here.”

  Tangled up in each other, we sank on to her bed. She was on top of me, giving my hands the freedom to explore her body while we alternated between lazy and passionate kissing.

  Her every response was a battle between mind and body, between instinct and desire. One wanted to jerk away from my touch, one wanted to press against me and beg for more. Sometimes her kiss was hesitant, sometimes it was confident. I never knew if a caress would bring out a startled gasp or an aroused sigh. But still she didn’t want to stop, so I didn’t.

  Together, we got her jeans unzipped and off, and to my surprise, she didn’t even flinch when I slid her panties over her hips. She kicked them away, then eased her naked body down on top of me. Her kiss was desperate now, hungry and demanding, and I groaned as she pressed her hips against my cock through my clothes. The more I touched her, tasted her, breathed her in, the more I physically ached to be inside her, but not until she was ready.

  We shifted positions so she was on her back, and when I circled her nipple with my tongue, she whimpered with pleasure even as the hand in my hair twitched and threatened to pull me away. I closed my lips around her nipple, holding it between my teeth and teasing it with my tongue. After a moment, her hand relaxed.

  I kissed my way down her belly, but just as I’d passed her navel, the hand in my hair tightened with enough hesitation to make me pause.

  I looked up. “What’s wrong?”

  “No,” she whispered. “Please… don’t.”

  I pushed myself up on my arms. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t go.” Her cheeks flushed with uncharacteristic embarrassment. “Down. There.”

  “Okay, I won’t.” Promising myself I’d find out later what he’d done to her to make her ashamed and nervous of something she’d once lived for, I moved up to kiss her. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

  When I kissed her again, the breath she released was another sigh of relief, and it was all I could do not to ask her right then what had happened. But I wouldn’t do that to her, not now. She’d been through enough. For tonight, she needed some long overdue ecstasy.

  I rested on one arm and let my hand drift down her side, pausing on her hip. “Is this okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Guide my hand,” I said.

  “What?”

  “So I know what you’re okay with,” I whispered. “Guide my hand.”

  For a moment, she didn’t move, and I thought she’d frozen, that what I’d asked was too much for her. Just before I came up with a Plan B, her fingers closed around my wrist
. She moved my hand down over her hip, then to her inner thigh. Neither of us breathed as she parted her legs for both of our hands.

  She guided me to her pussy, laying my fingers over her clit. I curled them slightly and made slow, gentle circles, all the while watching her eyes. She kept her hand on my wrist, but she didn’t hold it now. She might not have even been aware of her own hand anymore. That, or she kept it there in case panic or pain suddenly took over and she needed to get away from my touch.

  I circled her clit a little faster. She whimpered and her back arched, but she didn’t try to push me away. After a while, her hand lifted off mine and, a second later, came to rest on the back of my neck, pulling me down into a kiss. At first, a gentle kiss. Then deeper, more passionate, more confident. Then shy, uncertain. With a little more time, the confidence came back.

  The heat of her pussy against my fingertips made my head spin. I was already painfully hard, and now that I was this close to her, I needed to be inside her. Soon, I hoped, and until then, I let my hand mirror her assertiveness. When her lips moved with uncertainty, I kept my touch gentle and slow. As she pulled me closer and kissed me harder, I teased her pussy, sliding two fingers inside her, inching deeper as long as her body language welcomed me.

  Her breathing came in sharp, shallow gasps now, cooling the side of my face as she kissed me. Her pussy tightened around my fingers. Anticipation tingled at the base of my spine. Yes, baby, come for me. Don’t hold back, don’t—

  She broke the kiss. “Scott.”

  The single syllable of my name stopped my hand, my heart, my breathing. “What? Are you—”

  “I want you.” She panted against my lips. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Yes, yes, yes, you can have me. I swallowed. “Are you sure?” Please say yes. Please say yes. Oh God, baby, please say yes.

  She nodded, pulling me down to kiss her again, and if her silent affirmative hadn’t reassured me, her desperate, demanding kiss did. And if that hadn’t convinced me, I’d have deferred to her hand, which slid between us to unbuckle my belt.

  I pushed myself up, and we both managed to get my belt unbuckled and my zipper down.

  Meredith’s hands stopped and she furrowed her brow. “Shit, I just realized I don’t have any condoms.”

  “I, however, do.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet.

  “Oh, thank God.” Then she laughed. “Scott Moore, ever the prepared one.”

  “Damn right.” I set my wallet on the nightstand and rolled on to my back so I could get out of my remaining clothes. Once they were off and the condom was on, I came back to her.

  She rested her hands on my shoulders and parted her legs for me as I lowered myself to her, but alarm raised the hairs on the back of my neck when she screwed her eyes shut. The creases between her eyebrows reappeared. Every sharp, uneven breath she drew spelled out apprehension.

  I leaned down and kissed her gently. “Are you sure about this?”

  The creases deepened.

  “Meredith?”

  I started to back off, but stopped when she hooked her leg around mine.

  Finally, she opened her eyes. “No. I want this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She hesitated, then nodded slowly as she put her arms around me. “Yes.”

  I kissed her again. Gently, just my lips against hers. “Do you want to get on top? So you can—”

  “No. Just like this.”

  I didn’t move yet. “I’ll go slow. If I’m hurting you, or you want me to stop, just say so.”

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded again.

  Resting my weight on one forearm, I guided myself to her with my free hand. I teased her pussy with the head of my cock, pushing in just a fraction of an inch before backing off. She tightened her jaw, screwed her eyes shut again, held her breath. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, holding on as if to still some trembling before it started.

  I kissed her neck. “Relax, baby. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” Another gentle kiss just beneath her ear. “You’re completely in control.”

  She released her breath. Her fingers loosened their grip on my shoulders.

  “You okay?” I whispered.

  She didn’t speak, just nodded.

  Biting my lip, I slid into her. I moved slowly, stopping whenever she tensed. Gradually, she relaxed and took me deeper with no resistance. It was my turn to stop breathing, but it wasn’t nerves or apprehension that lodged the air in my throat. I closed my eyes, lips parted for an exhalation that didn’t come, and lost myself in her. The heat of her body against mine, her cool breaths on my shoulder, the soft, familiar smell of her skin and hair, all of that along with the dizzying, overwhelming sensation of being inside her.

  I pushed myself up again and looked down at her. She held my gaze as I took long, smooth strokes, and for a moment, all the reasons we were here disappeared. The past, the pain, the scars, all of it was gone, and it was only us. She was the woman I’d made love to just like this hundreds of times before. We were here because we wanted to be. Because we wanted each other.

  She reached up to touch my face and I kissed the inside of her wrist, shivering at the warmth of her skin against my lips.

  “Come here,” she whispered, and drew me down to kiss her.

  We kissed, we moved, we melted against each other, and I didn’t break that kiss until a breathtaking tremor rippled up my spine. Then Meredith shuddered, and her whole body shook against me, her pussy tightening with the first waves of the orgasm she couldn’t quite release, and I’d be damned if I came before she did. Closing my eyes tight and clenching my jaw, I buried my face against her neck and thrust a little harder.

  “You’re almost there, aren’t you?” I whispered in her ear.

  She moaned softly.

  “Come, baby.” You feel so good, I’m losing it. I’m fucking losing it. “Let yourself go, Meredith, let—” My voice caught. “Let me feel you come.”

  “Oh fuck, Scott,” she whimpered. Her nails dug into my shoulders, and I gritted my teeth to keep that delicious pain from sending me over the edge. She arched her back. Trembled. Exhaled. Oh my God, she was right there, right there on the brink, so close, so close, and I was ready to go down with her.

  As soon as her pussy tightened around me, I didn’t stand a chance. She cried out, I groaned, and a shudder drove me deep inside her. My rhythm fell apart as I tried to keep thrusting, tried to keep breathing, tried to keep her orgasm going along with my own.

  Then, as one, we exhaled and relaxed.

  Another whimper escaped her lips. I kissed her cheek just as she pulled in a ragged breath, and my lips touched wet skin. Puzzled, I pushed myself up on my arms, and panic turned my veins to ice when I realized she was crying. She put her hand over her eyes, and little by little, fell to pieces.

  “Meredith, baby, are you okay?” I touched her face, brushing away a tear. I’d seen women tear up after a powerful orgasm, but not like this. Never like this. “Baby, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head, but neither spoke nor took her hand away from her eyes.

  My heart slammed into my ribcage as I stroked her face with a shaking hand. “Talk to me, please…”

  Through her tears, she finally murmured, “Thank you.”

  Chapter 3

  Careful not to jar her more than I had to, I pulled out slowly. Then I shifted on to my side and held her close, stroking her face and hair while she cried.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered after a few minutes. “I didn’t… this…”

  “Shh.” I kissed her gently. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  She sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I just feel so stupid.”

  “What? Because you’re in bed with me?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, that’s it. Of course.”

  I smiled. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  “You’re a dork.”

  “I’ve been called worse things.”

 
“Oh really? Such—” She paused, then gestured past me. “Can you get those for me?”

  I picked up the box of tissues from the nightstand and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” She pulled one out and dabbed at her eyes.

  “No problem.” I kissed her forehead, then sat up. “I’m going to go get rid of this and be right back.” I kissed her one more time, then got up and went into the bathroom to take care of the condom. As I washed my hands, I caught my reflection in the mirror and paused. Even after—especially after—having sex with Meredith, the unsettled feeling lingered in my gut. I still couldn’t get my head around what she’d been through, and something told me I didn’t know the half of it yet.

  Looking into my own eyes, I wondered. Am I cut out for this? Am I capable of helping her pick up these pieces? What the hell am I getting myself into?

  I turned the water off. Still looking in the mirror for answers, I dried my hands and sighed. Time would tell if I was the right person to help her through this. Between now and that time, I’d do whatever I could for her, and resist the urge to hunt down that worthless piece of shit to show him the meaning of the word “punishment.”

  For the moment, she was here, I was here, and she’d managed to surrender enough to not only have sex, but to come. No way was I ruining this, and I wasn’t about to let her see that her situation had already gotten under my skin.

  I flicked off the bathroom light and went back into the bedroom. Sliding into bed beside her, I started pulled the covers up over both of us, but she stopped me, furrowing her brow as she looked at me.

  She ran her fingertips down my side. “When did you get these tattoos?”

  I glanced down. “Not quite three years ago.”

  “What do they mean?”

  “They’re Chinese,” I said. “The characters on my left side mean strength and wisdom.” I gestured at my back. “The four down my back are power and trust. On my right side, peace and passion.”

  She looked at me, eyebrows raised. “I never thought of you as particularly spiritual.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it spiritual,” I said. “Those are just things that are important to me. And yes, I made sure they were all correctly translated and the calligraphy was done right.”